poH wa'DIch
by ElliotJA
Summary: The title is Klingon for "first time." B'Elanna tells Tom about her parents' very first union of passion. Rated for strong sex.


Clouds of smoke drifted up into the sky from the bubbling, red-orange pools and rivers of molten lava as the three warriors stalked with utmost stealth across the rocky ground. The star this planetoid orbited barely peaked through the monotonous blankets of vapour that enshrouded the world's desolate surface. But the ruddy light given off by the lakes of magma providd adequate illumination to the trio of beings now traversing the foreboding landscape, their every sense at full alert.

With a chorus of war cries, the attack came. The attackers disgorged themselves from behind boulders, atop cliffs, and every inky shadow, and the three who faced them voiced war cries of their own, their bladed weapons ringing as they clashed spectacularly with those of their enemies. Roars of rage, bloodlust and raw triumph echoed across the twilight, until a young girl dressed in the uniform of a Klingon warrior, and holding a _bat'leth_, stood atop a pile of gutted corpses and yelled out "_Qapla'_!" Then the girl, whose name was Miral Paris, dashed into the arms of Tom Paris, her father, and B'Elanna Torres, her mother.

"Well done, my sweet little girl!" B'Elanna said as she held her daughter tightly and kissed her cheek.

"Yeah, Miral," Tom commented with a laugh. "Once again, you've shown what a fine Klingon you are! Your mom and I couldn't be more proud of our little warrior!" A moment later all three of them walked hand in hand from the holodeck as the scene of their battle swiftly dissipated, and into the corridors of USS _Voyager_.

OOOOOOOO

"She's fast asleep," Tom said to his wife later that evening as he approached the bed he shared with B'Elanna and climbed under the covers next to her. "I think today's holodeck session drained a lot of her energy," he continued. "God, she is amazing with a _bat'leth_!"

"She certainly has more enthusiasm for Klingon culture than I ever did," remarked B'Elanna.

"Yeah, well, I'm just glad we don't have to serve her _gagh _for dinner!" Tom said with a chuckle, which was shared by B'Elanna. He looked at his wife in the soft light of their quarters then, and said "What are you thinking about, B'Elanna?"

B'Elanna's slight smile was tinged with something else. "Just thinking about my parents," she said. "I've never told anyone this before, but...when they first...you know...it was on a holodeck. They hadn't known one another for long, but after that, things were never the same for either of them..."

OOOOOOOO

_**Thirty-five years earlier...**_

John Torres yawned as he sat down by himself with a cup of coffee in the cafeteria at Deep Space Station K-7. As he drank the pleasantly warm and sweet liquid, he looked around him at his surroundings. At nearly a century old, Station K-7 was not exactly cutting edge in terms of the latest amenities, but he still felt a reasonable degree of comfort here, as a simple civilian technician. He smiled to himself as he thought of how, sixty years ago, anyone living in this vicinity would have felt constant fear at the prospect of all-out hostilities ever breaking out between the United Federation of Planets and the Klingon Empire, given the station's close proximity to the Neutral Zone. That was before the Khitomer Accords, and later, the Romulan attack on Narendra III, in which the Federation had fought at the Klingons' side, providing invaluable aid. Things had definitely improved between the two powers since then.

Still sat alone at the table, he was mildly amused to find his attention momentarily diverted by a large number of Klingons pouring into the establishment, laughing and roaring as they sat at tables or went over to the bar to order drinks. A good thing we've recently begun stocking _raktajino _and bloodwine, John thought to himself. A Klingon ship must have just docked for shore leave. His cup soon empty, he went over to the bar to order a Saurian brandy, and he had just arrived when a voice with a feminine lilt to it at his side barked out "Bartender, a _warnoq_!" Slightly startled, John turned his head to find himself looking upon a female Klingon dressed, like all others of her species present, in the garb of a member of the Defence Force. He had not meant to stare, but she evidently detected his eyes on her, turned to look at him and, with a smile, said "John Torres. We meet again."

It took a moment to remember where had previously seen her. "Hello, Miral," he said. "I see the _Sarpek _is here." John's mind went back months, to when he was returning to Station K-7 from visiting his family on Earth, and the transport vessel he was on had been attacked by a Cardassian warship, yet another in the increasing number of acts of aggression by the expanding Cardassian Union against the Federation. When they beamed over boarding parties, John had joined the fight to repel them and protect the rest of the passengers, even managing to blast a whole with a phaser in one Cardassian soldier and break the neck of another. His side had been loosing when, to their surprise and elation, the Klingon battlecruiser _Sarpek_ arrived, having received their distress call, and promptly crippled the attackers' vessel. After that, bolstered by the Klingons forces, they soon had the Cardassian boarders routed.

When the Klingons assisting in repairs heard that John had slain two Cardassians in close combat, they had praised his strength and prowess, hailing him as a warrior. And that was when Miral had stepped close to him, looked him over briefy, said "I am Miral", gave a soft growl, and walked away, though he had noticed her once or twice furtively glancing at him from a distance.

Now, standing at the bar on Station K-7, she said to him "Would you permit me the honor of joining you for a drink?"

"I suppose we should have gotten to know one another more back on the transport ship," John replied. In a moment, their drinks in their hands, they sat down at a table. "So, Miral," said John, "tell me about yourself."

"I am of the House of Kemnol," Miral responded. "It is led by my elder brother. My family are strong warriors, though as yet, we are only a minor House. For three turns I have served on the _Sarpek_, as my mother, L'Naan, did before me." She raised her cup to take a deep swallow of her _warnoq _then, wiping her mouth with her sleeve before continuing. "And what of you? What is your story?"

And so between drinks, John told her of his birth and childhood in Mexico on Earth, how he came from a long line of soldiers and law enforcers, and how he had chosen to leave his homeworld to seek his fortune in space. As he did so, his eyes took in every detail of Miral: Her long, curly hair of dark auburn, the ridges of her forehead, the strong-boned features of her face, her smouldering eyes. As far as Klingons went, she was not unattractive. Even her attire was oddly pleasing to his eye: Basically the same as those worn by other members of the _Sarpek_'s crew, dark in hue and of strong armoured leather, yet also possessing a certain elegance and savage sensuality. He glanced at her hand wrapped around her cup, at her bare fingers above the soft leather of her glove, strangely enticing. And then - he couldn't help it - the swell of her heavy breasts, the valley of her cleavage visible through the opening cut into her uniform's front. He quickly looked away, not wanting to offend her by staring, though he thought she seemed mildly amused.

"You say many in your family are fighters," she said. "Were you taught the ways of combat by them in your youth?"

"As it happens, I was," answered John. "I learned boxing, wrestling and martial arts from my dad, did sport in high school. My uncle even taught me to fence."

"It is a shame you did not pursue the path of the warrior more," Miral softly observed, her eyes twinkling as she looked at John. "My ship has a holographic environment simulator," she suddenly announced. "It would...please me greatly if you met me there later to engage in...recreational activities."

Before he could stop himself, John found himself agreeing to Miral's request. "Then I will see you in one hour," she said, smiling as she drained her cup and stood up, lightly brushing her fingerless-gloved hand against his shoulder before walking away. John swallowed nervously and shivered slightly, wondering just what he was getting himself into.

His nervousness still had not entirely left him an hour later when he walked through the corridors of the _Sarpek_, though he did not let it show. Once he explained he had been invited by one of the crew, he had been permitted to beam over, with the transporter operator even informing him how to find the environment simulator. At the end of the dim, smokey passage he came to a large door. As John approached, it opened with a hiss and clang...and he gasped in wonder as before his eyes stretched a vast forest, the air alive with the sounds of alien birds. The doors now shut behind him as he entered, and he realised it even felt and smelled like a real forest; the leaves of the trees and bushes all felt thrillingly real. This was far more advanced than anything the Federation had; Starfleet could really use something this sophisticated on their vessels.

"Miral?" John called out as he began walking over the soft earth. It took him only a moment to locate her, waiting on the bank of a small lake fed by a waterfall. She grinned fiercely when she saw him, and he noticed she carried a huge, curved, dangerously sharp-looking sword in one hand. A _bat'leth_, he realised it must be; a traditional Klingon weapon.

"You have come. Good," Miral said. "This is the great forest which lies to the north of T'Val K'rang, my home city on Qo'noS."

"Iit's magnificent," John said, still in awe as he gazed around him. Looking back at Miral, he asked her "What kind of recreation do you have in mind?"

Still smiling as she sauntered over, Miral replied "Growing up near these parts, I always loved to hunt here. To stalk prey, the thrill of the chase, the glory of the kill..." She closed the last few inches between them and placed her hand on John's chest. Her breath was hot against the skin of his neck as she leaned close to his ear and growled "Hunt with me now, John." John's pulse was hammering with more than trepidation now as he mutely nodded, gone dumb at her nearness. "You have no weapon," Miral observed then. Quickly she gave a command to the computer and a holographic spear formed, as solid as the real thing. Having handed it to John, she gestured for him to follow her as she set off into the dense woodland.

They had not gone far when Miral suddenly halted, sniffing the air. "Smell that?" she whispered. "Sabre-bear. We are close." They crept through the undergrowth, John striving not to make too much noise, arriving in minutes at the mouth of a cave in the wall of a cliff, the muddy ground outside littered with bones. Scarcely had they gone any further when, from close by in the inky blackness ahead came a shuffling and padding of heavy feet, followed a loud growling and Miral's snarl of "It comes!" as she hefted her _bat'leth _in both hands.

John gripped his spear tightly and stifled a cry of shock as, with a titanic roar, a nightmare form of matted fur, fangs, talons and eyes filled with bloodlust exploded out of the cave straight at them. In leaping out of its' way, John lost balance and sprawled over on his back in the mud. Miral was too busy dodging its' lunging jaws and gargantuan paws as the sabre-bear rose up on its hind legs and commenced swiping at her. "Come, beast!" she yelled with a taunting laugh as she ducked under one paw and dived in, delivering a deep cut in the animal's side that elicited a pained bellow, before dancing back. Dropping to all fours, the maddened sabre-bear charged her. Though she again dodged the attack, dealing another slash as it passed her, she was not fast enough as it swung quickly around and batted her to the ground with one paw, with her _bat'leth _sent flying beyond her reach.

"Miral!" John cried. He didn't even think as he ran over, jumped, landed on the sabre-bear's back and drove the spear as deep as it would go into its flesh. He held onto the shaft as the creature thrashed and reared up again. As it fought to dislodge the spear - and John - Miral seized the moment, rushing to grab her _bat'leth_, then charging back to plunge her weapon into the animal's throat. Its roar sank to a gurgle as she yanked the blade free and blood gushed from the mortal wound, and then it collapsed onto its belly and ceased to breathe.

Panting, John climbed down off the animal just as Miral threw her face to the sky and howled "_Qapla'_!"

"Miral, are you alright?" asked John.

Miral's breathing was heavy as she looked at him and answered. "Together we have slain the beast, John! Now, let us celebrate our victory the best way we can!" There was no resistance on John's part as she walked up to him, allowing her weapon to fall at her feet before grabbing the back of his head and pulling his face to hers for a long, deep, strong kiss. After a full minute, John broke the kiss and moved his face down to her chest, planting kisses on the skin between her round, sweat-soaked breasts. He did not do this for long before Miral again lifted his face to hers, this time biting his cheek, her sharp teeth drawing tiny trickles of blood. Wrapping their arms around one another, they fell to the ground, John on top of Miral.

"Oh God," John gasped, hardly believing what was happening as he frantically fought to undo his pants. Miral reached up for his collar and, with one strong tug, ripped his shirt open and off his body, just as he managed to free his erect penis. As thoroughly aroused as John was, a thought then occured to him. "Are we...er...compatible? I mean, I heard Klingon sex organs are...different."

"Don't worry," Miral told him hoarsely, "I will help you!" Yanking down her lower garments, she took hold of John's penis in her hand, causing him to groan at the feel of her glove and bare fingers on his skin, and guided him up between her thighs. It took just a few seconds for John to find the opening and slide inside. Miral's gloved hands went to his back as he began thrusting.

The sounds of the forest around them died away as their savage passion grew in intensity. Miral gripped the muscles of his back and shoulders so hard it hurt, but the pain mixed with the pleasure. John could feel his orgasm gaining on him as he and Miral grasped his right and her left hands together, a grasp that tightened as the moment of release came. They both screamed, John felt and heard the bones in his hand cracking, and felt his warm liquid erupt from him into the body of his Klingon lover.


End file.
